Wish Upon A Christmas Cake

‘Well we all enjoyed the meal immensely.’ Sam smiled, then helped his children out of their chairs. ‘But I’d better get these two to bed. Santa’s coming tomorrow night and I don’t want them getting out of their routine and being tired and grumpy on Christmas Day.’

‘I don’t believe in Santa, Dad. I told you that!’ The little boy pouted and crossed his arms.

‘What have I told you, Jack?’ Sam’s tone was calm and patient and I watched him carefully, wondering how he would deal with the issue. ‘Jack?’

‘You said that if you don’t believe in Santa, he won’t come.’

‘That’s right,’ my mother said. ‘Isn’t it, Katie?’

As all eyes turned to me, including the children’s, my cheeks burnt. I must have been about Jack’s age when I realised that it was in fact Dad who was filling the stocking hung on my bedpost. Even though he was four years older than me and had started comprehensive school, Karl had still clung to the image of the jolly old fat man and his bag of gifts. However, once I’d discovered the truth, I insisted that he know it too. A precocious eight year old, I’d felt it was my duty to expose the fallacies of childhood at every opportunity. Karl had gone crying to his room and Esther had been beetroot to the roots of her hair and deadly silent. Her silence was far more terrifying than her ranting because I knew it meant she was really pissed at me.

‘Uh…yes…yes it is true. You have to believe!’ I raised my hands and shook them as I stared at the children. Immediately, I felt ridiculous. Why did I do that? Why did I do jazz hands? I took a big swig of port and stared into my glass as my cheeks blazed.

When I raised my eyes again, Jack was looking at me with the suspicion children show to strangers and I have to admit that it unnerved me. Sometimes, kids can look at you in a way that suggests that they just see right through you. Adults often fall for the façade people sometimes erect around themselves because they want to, but children still have enough innocence to wonder why someone isn’t being as forthright as they could be. I’m just not that comfortable around children; they stir too much up. Ann coos over babies when their mothers bring them into the shop and we have colouring books and crayons ready for little ones to use. I smile at the mums and dads who come to Crumbtious as they tell me about their children’s latest achievements and I bake gluten and nut free cookies for the ones with allergies, but I just keep my distance. It’s safer that way. I need to protect my heart.

‘Daddy?’ Holly clung to Sam’s trunk of a thigh, her bottom lip quivering. ‘Isn’t there a Santa?’

Sam swung her up into his arms and I nearly swooned as the muscles strained against the sleeves of his polo shirt. ‘Of course there is, Holly. Jack’s just being a bit grumpy.’

Jack pouted and hung his head but Sam shifted Holly onto his left hip then ruffled Jack’s hair with his right hand. ‘Come on, son. Sportacus and Stephanie will need to go out.’

Jack nodded at this and ran from the room without so much as a goodbye.

‘I’ll see you all tomorrow.’ Sam smiled and caught my eye. My cheeks grew even hotter. Dammit, what was wrong with me? I’d known him practically all my life but here I was like a self-conscious teenager in his presence. As if all those years hadn’t passed and I was still in awe of him like I used to be. As if we hadn’t been through so much, then walked away from each other. As if my heart hadn’t broken into a thousand pieces when we said goodbye.

But he is all grown up now and very yummy. My stomach flipped. He’s also married with two children. Off limits. Forbidden fruit. Part of my past.

And who, on earth, were Sportacus and Stephanie?

Chapter 3 (#ulink_cd5b167b-e6d9-56bc-8040-46bbcdf557ff)

We took our second coffees in the drawing room which was a large airy room at the front of the house. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out onto spacious gardens that glowed with solar lights in various shapes and colours. Some of the large old trees had been draped with fairy lights and they shimmered like stars in the darkness. It gave the garden a festive feeling which warmed me right through.

I sank onto an overstuffed white sofa that nearly swallowed me whole as pillows puffed up on either side. My belly was full, my legs ached and I was tired but I knew that I’d need to stay up for a bit longer to be sociable.

Aunty Gina and Karl were chatting about their social media accounts; apparently they stayed in contact that way.

‘Are you on Twitter, Katie?’ Gina asked.

I sighed. ‘I am, but only under the shop’s name. I don’t have a personal account.’ Why would I? I barely had time to tweet for the shop let alone about myself. Come to think of it, the only real social networking I indulged in was focused around the business. Yes, I was on Facebook, but that was to keep in touch with Karl when he jetted off around the world filming in exotic locations but I didn’t have many Facebook ‘friends’. I didn’t have many real friends if I was being totally honest. Setting up Crumbtious had taken up all of my time and energy. I’d had little left for Harrison. What man wants a woman who’s always working? I did hope that he was happy now, that he was moving on and enjoying the life he’d wanted to live. And that he would have a good Christmas this year. Just not with me.

‘Katie?’ Gina cocked her head on one side. ‘You seem tired, dear. Perhaps you should get to bed. It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow and Santa will be coming.’ She flashed me her scarlet-lipped smile and I noticed that she’d cleared away the smudged lipstick and reapplied another coat. Her eyes glistened though, betraying the effect of the alcohol she’d consumed.

‘I guess I am a bit tired. It’s been a busy month. It would be nice if Santa really was coming tomorrow.’

‘How does that joke go, Katie?’ Karl asked. ‘Oh I know. Why doesn’t Santa have any kids? Because he only comes once a year and then it’s down the chimney. Boom! Boom!’

I tried to smile but the evening had stirred up a myriad of emotions and I couldn’t help thinking: Why doesn’t Katie Warham have any kids? Because she only comes with a battery-operated device and she’s far too busy to bag a man. Boom! Boom!

‘Right, well I’m exhausted, so I’m going to head off up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire!’ Gina announced as she reached for Tanberk’s hand.

I smiled at her use of Granny’s phrase that had confused me as a child, prompting me to ask my Dad, How is there a place called Bedfordshire upstairs in Granny’s house?

Tanberk got to his feet and nodded at us all, then allowed Gina to lead him to bed. I’m sure he looked a bit scared. Rebecca followed them soon after, her iPad gripped firmly in her hand as it had been since dinner; an anti-social teenager of the technological revolution. I briefly wondered what the future held for her. Would she actually interact with other people face-to-face or would her social life and her career be conducted online?

‘I’m quite tired too,’ Angelo said. ‘I think I’ll take a soak in the bath then get some sleep.’

‘I’ll be up in a bit,’ Karl replied as he kissed him before he left the room.

Karl came over to my sofa. ‘Hey, Sis, can I finally have some of your time?’

I linked arms with him as he sat down. ‘Of course you can, Big Brother.’

‘You’ve been so busy lately that I’ve been worried about you. Mum and Dad said they’ve hardly seen you since the funeral.’ He gazed at me and I half expected to see a reprimand in his eyes, but all I saw was affection and concern. ‘You’re working too hard, Kitty-Kat.’

‘I know, Karl, I know. But the business is doing so well.’

‘Then employ another person.’

I nodded. ‘We have had two temporary employees working weekends over the Christmas period and we might well ask them to stay on next year – even if it’s just for a few hours here and there. But it’s still been really busy recently.’

‘Your problem is that you’re a workaholic. You know—’ He placed a finger on his chin and scrunched up his face dramatically. ‘I zink zat you are using ze job as a way to forget ozer zings.’

I laughed at his terrible Freud impression. ‘Stop trying to psychoanalyse me, Karl. I just want the business to succeed.’

‘It is succeeding, silly. But you need to live, Baby Sister, before you turn around and find yourself an old spinster. Life won’t wait for you!’ He wagged his finger. ‘I’m just concerned that you’re keeping busy as a way to avoid facing up to the fact that your life is otherwise empty, Katie.’

I sank backwards into the cushions and stared at the ornate Artex on the ceiling. I traced the circles with my eyes, round and round and round. Karl was right. Life wouldn’t wait for me and apart from my family, Ann and Crumbtious, there wasn’t anyone or anything else that really mattered to me. Undeniably, I had moments of panic where I wondered if I’d ever meet the right guy and sometimes I heard my biological clock ticking but I always tried to muffle the sound. Not every woman had to have kids. I was lucky. I had a job I loved and a best friend and a family. Admittedly, I had a family I didn’t see as often as I could do, but they were there and they knew I loved them. Although since losing Granny I had been more aware of the fact that I could actually lose the rest of them too and that thought had kept me awake for more nights than I cared to admit.

‘I just want to see you happy, Katie.’ Karl kissed my cheek and smoothed my curls from my forehead, then gently examined my tender bruise. ‘Harrison was the wrong guy. He messed up but there are other men out there.’

‘And all the good ones are gay.’ I grinned and tweaked his nose.

‘Hey!’ He swatted my hand. ‘But sadly, you’re probably right, Kitty-Kat. I mean, there’s me and then there’s Angelo.’

‘He’s an absolute dream.’

‘Isn’t he just? You know, I think that he might just be…the one.’

‘Oooh!’ I clapped my hands. ‘Are we going to have a wedding?’

‘Well one of us better get hitched soon to keep the matriarch happy.’ He giggled as he glanced at our mother and I joined him. I would much prefer Karl to experience her interference in his wedding any day. Just the thought of trying to please her as I made wedding plans turned me cold. Yes, Karl could be the one to get married and perhaps he could be the one to have kids. As for me, I would just have to eat cake and get a cat.

‘Oh and, Kitty-Kat, I do love you, so you’d prefer me to be honest with you, right?’

My heart sank. What did he have to tell me? What had I done, or failed to do?

‘Ur…yeah.’ I bit my lip.